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He leaned, and looked searchingly, peeringly, at that long,
sunken face above the crumpled sheet.

" Why," the man on the bed exclaimed—" why, you are
Percy Munn!"

But for a moment he made no response, leaning there over
the footboard. " I hadn't thought of you in a long time," he
said then, almost whispering, still staring. He added, "I'd
almost forgot what you looked like."

The man on the bed raised himself a little, as though pain-
fully, and propped himself on one elbow. "What do you
want?" he asked.

" I'd almost forgot what you looked like. You'd gone out
of my mind "—the words came slowly, meditatively. " Then
something happened and brought you back to my mind,

"What do you want?" the man on the bed demanded,
almost mechanically now.

"To kill you," he said, not moving. Then he added, "I'm
going to kill you, Tolliver." He stopped, as though searching
within himself. "In a minute," he said, "when I've looked
at you."

The long, bony fingers of the free hand of the man on the
bed shifted aimlessly, closed and unclosed. "You might kill
me," he said softly. "You might be the man to da it,

"I am," Mr. Munn answered. "You know, I killed a man
once. At- least, I think I did. I was one of them did it. I
shot first, I guess. I pulled the trigger, and then, there was
blood on him. You know," he continued, leaning, his voice
sinking as in a confidence, "you pull the trigger. You pull
the trigger, and there it is."

The fingers stopped moving on the sheet

"You don't notice the r,oise," Mr. Munn said; "not then*"
Then he added, "That comes after."

" I'm not afraid," the man on the bed repBed.

"The noise," he repeated, "that conies after. Yo% yot*
probably won't notice it at all."